Histories and Untold Stories
by The Ice Within
Summary: Each demigod, mortal and god has a story untold, a story unseen. From the depths of Hades to Mount Olympus, these are those tales. A collection of one-shots. Hiatus.
1. Demigod 1 Percy

**Perseus Jackson (Percy)**

It's been so long since he stood there, calmly watching the sea. Memory after memory hit him, just like the tides, crashing against the shores. He had walked out of his cabin, seeking some time alone.

After he had 'saved the world', he hadn't been given any peace for the past few months, always answering questions and replying those soppy letters he received from various girls. Though he admit that some of those girls seemed to be sincere, but his heart was for Annabeth, and her alone…

He thought back to the time when he had led a much more normal life **– **yes, it had been boring and dull, but at least he had a place to call home. He knew, or at least he believed, that he was safe and was living with someone he loved. Though he didn't show it, he was heart-broken and torn when he found out who he really was. He wasn't really sure what 'half-blood' or 'demigod' had meant then, but he knew enough to understand that his life had changed. It was the biggest turn of his life – and it wasn't going to be a good one.

Matters became worse when the first person he met was a Centaur and a girl who didn't even congratulate him for killing that stupid Minotaur. Instead she had glared and made him look bad in front of those strangers.

He wanted to cry, he wanted to call out for his mother like a small child. He dreamt of the times when he was still a young boy, sleeping and being cradled in his mother's strong arms; so comfortable, safe and secure. He yearned for a letter that would never come. The only thing that drove him forward was that he had to understand what his life was about, who he was, so he could get his mother out of wherever she was, even though she was dead.

Then he was accused of doing something that he never did. He had to help a god when he still didn't believe they existed._ Poseidon? _He scoffed. _Poseidon's my Dad. Oh joy, how can matters get any worse?_

But they did. And when he finally sent the Lightning Bolt back to his uncle, he had seen his dad for the first he was nervous at first, he soon felt the burning anger course through him, knocking the air out of his lungs. Everything came crashing down- how he practically ignored him his whole life, and how he left them when he was just a little baby. But he was struck by how similar he looked like his father, the Sea God. He had his green eyes, powerful and full of passion towards the ocean; he had his oily black hair too. Percy was almost a young replica of his father never thought about it, but perhaps it was a good thing to look like his father? Or should he feel that it's a curse. He was confused, but he didn't want to know- _yet._

Even though he felt happy that his father had told him that he was proud of Percy, he couldn't hide his anger and dismay towards him.

Angry that he hadn't given her mother a better life; angry that he didn't come to see him after all these years of knowing that Percy thought his father was dead,perhaps lost at sea; angry that he didn't even care about him, or sent a letter telling him he was still loved, that he was watched over. Angry that he was merely a 'wrongdoing' of his.

He was a _God _for Gods' sake! If they can't even claim their own children and make them happy, what else could they do? How can they even let people pray to them, sacrifice to them without shame? How disgraceful.

But soon, he got used to the life, used to the twist and turns of events. He learnt to never trust people easily, as he was cheated and then betrayed again and again. He was tired of this life.

Sometimes he thought of committing suicide, all of the pressure of being the here. The fact that everything was just so darn complicated. Sometimes, he was so lost that he wished he could just not care about anything, to just lead a carefree life- but he knew he couldn't. It was frustrating, how all these things just had to have a curve to it, never giving you a straightforward. But when he really cleared his mind and sat down to think, he found it amusing and stupid. He was relieved that no one was there to read his thoughts; it would be so embarrassing. He chuckled softly, shaking his head in mock dismay.

But he still had friends, even though it was only two or three of them. He got quests after quests until staying in Camp and talking with his friends seemed unusual.

* * *

><p>Waves crashed onto the shore, droplets of water rained down on him, waking him from his daydream. He allowed himself to get wet so he could feel the cool and calm sea.<p>

The water calmed him down, soothing his raging emotions, twined together in turmoil within his head. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and stifled a yawn, but before he could protest, the familiar event replayed itself once again.

* * *

><p>He was scared – a feeling he often felt, but never showed. He'll put on a façade, covering up his real emotions. Poker Face, forced laughter, fake smiles- those became his refuge from fear, and he wasn't proud of stood shivering on the road, shadowy figures passing by him, oblivious of his presence. It was dark and stormy outside, thunder and lightning rolled above him, shaking his skinny and fragile body each time it struck.<p>

He shivered, walking against the wind, lost. He couldn't find the way back home, and he was still haunted by the images and scenes of the fight. _What were does things? _He asked himself. _Those jagged claws and yellowing teeth, just inches away from his neck. The hollow and cold laughter, piercing through the darkness, echoing off the stonewalls._

He was only eight years old then; the world of demigods was still unknown to him. It was then that he first felt the longing and ache of wanting a dad. How he wished he could run into his father's arms, rough but assuring, and curl up into a ball and just rest, not a care in the world.

He wished he didn't have to look behind his back, watch every single step he walked, just because he doesn't feel safe, just because maybe, his father would walk out of the shadows and smile at him, apologizing for not coming home for so long. But no, he never saw him, and he didn't have any memories of having a father. He felt so lonely, so left out- someone who's father didn't care about, what was he? Nothing. He felt cheated, every time he hears his mother rambling on about how good his father was, he wanted to stand up and scream. He didn't want to talk about him, he didn't want to know about his father- he knew it was futile, knowing these would only make the scars and wounds hurt more.

He often imagined his father as a tall and handsome man with a kind and gentle smile. His eyes sparkling – green, just like his. He dreamt of him, thought about him, imagined him, but he never seen the man and he knew he never will. He was _dead_.

He stopped, he couldn't go on anymore; he was too tired and scared. But he didn't want to stay still. He took a deep breath and started running.

Once he started, he couldn't stop. He wanted to outrun the truth and all the facts that he didn't want to believe in. He wanted to run away from those images of the events that had just happened.

He ran, and ran, until the feeling faded a little.

Then he saw a light, hope and relief flooded through him as he jogged towards it. Only to find that they were the creatures that sought him out just now. It was those monsters. Monsters from way below, from down there, from the place we call _hell_. That was the first time he ever encountered the real world out there – a world that isn't all that peaceful and good to live in. Percy shook his head in disdain, why did he always think about the sad and fearful things when he was alone?The feelings crept up on him when he was thinking about something else, springing unwanted memories on him, making his mind ugly.

That's why he liked spending time with Annabeth. She always rambled on and on about useless and boring architecture, yet it filled up his time and made him think of stuff other than those that sent shivers down his spine.

Percy, Perseus Jackson, a dimwitted boy, a son of the Sea God, once a timid and shy boy, was now a grown-up and handsome boy.

* * *

><p>As he walked down the dark 'road' of Hade's territory, he wasn't so sure if he had done the right thing, if this was the right choice. But he had taken one look at the mourning dead and made up his mind. He would do what he had decided to do.<p>

He would be a confident boy. He wouldn't want to be someone who died with unfinished business, eyes bulging while trying to hang onto the boat that led them to their destiny of the Dead.

He took another deep breath and squared his shoulders and walked on.

He was a brave and thoughtful boy.

* * *

><p>Percy smiled. He liked that memory. It boosted his ego and made his day seem more cheerful and less gloomy. The sea calmed down, the waves lapping onto the shores gently, the seawater beating on the rocks rhythmically, music to his ears. No longer something people were afraid of, fearing that the waves would break their ship, would take away their family members and friends…<p>

His smile became a huge grin as he waved to his new friends in the water. He looked up at the clear, blue sky, at his uncle's unwelcome territory, and thought perhaps the sky wasn't all that bad either.

But demigod lives were never free of fear, and they were never at peace, so the next memory wasn't all that good anymore.

* * *

><p>When he was turned into a guinea pig along with so many other 'warriors' and men, he was once again afraid. He thought he saw his real self that he really was the little useless lump of fur, an animal that couldn't even escape or squeak for help.<p>

He had reflected then, to see what he had done wrong all his life. He was angry and dismayed that he hadn't even had the opportunity and dignity to say goodbye to all his friends and family. He clenched his sour fists and gritted his teeth wouldn't have had the face to live even if he escaped, would he?

But once he reflected, all his hope diminished, he realized that he really was useless. His mistakes were too many to be counted and listed; it would go on and on forever, never to end.

As a guinea pig, he went back to the scaredy cat, shameful, and not confident boy.

* * *

><p><em>STOP! <em>Percy commanded himself, what was he doing? Thinking about all these useless things, letting himself fall into self-pity.

He wasn't useless, he wasn't a lump of fur – he was a confident and proud boy. Was he?

* * *

><p>When he bathed in River Styx, he had felt pain for the first time– real pain. Hot, burning pain that ate him entirely, not the normal bearable type of a moment, he had felt that he would be pulled away, along with all the other hopeless and sad_ dreams in the River Styx. He would have become one of the discarded toys, but something hindered him, making him come back to consciousness – Annabeth. That was why he suddenly became friendlier and nicer to her.<p>

He felt that he was going to be torn apart, to be forever cast in the depths of the River, but he had succeeded. Inside he had rejoiced secretly, on the outside he was raw as a lobster, burning and uncomfortable.

He didn't tell anyone, he wasn't ready, about the fact that Annabeth had kept him alive in the River. Her visions, the moments he had spent with her, both happy and sad, had kept his heart beating.

After the experience, he became invulnerable, confident, and reckless.

* * *

><p>Percy winced at the experience of the 'bath'. He swore to himself to never recommend a one in River Styx to anyone. One experience was enough for ten lifetimes. He shuddered, not from the cold, but from the evil that lurked inside his head.<p>

* * *

><p>He slashed, ducked, and slashed again. It was the biggest, and hopefully, the last war he would be in the Titan War. Monsters from Hades know where, demigods, traitors, and the Lord of Time himself, were all present.<p>

His heart pounded with anger, fear and even hope. His face was beet-red with heat, he couldn't hold on any longer. That was when one of his few friends, Nico di Angelo, appeared, saving the day.

After the fierce yet heart-breaking battle, they won. Percy didn't even have time to rejoice when he was enveloped with hugs and compliments.

Then he had to make the greatest and hardest decision of his life.

It was then; the young boy became a hero, a friend, and a proud son.

* * *

><p>Percy sighed as he lay down on the soft golden sand. He changed so much through all these years.<p>

At times, he thought that his life was a torture, a pain in the back, unusual and unwelcome. But at other times he changed his mind. That being a demigod, a so-so famous hero could be happy, fun, and sometimes the unusualness could become special and unique. The unwelcome life became something that he should treasure because after all, there weren't that many demigods that were alive anymore.

* * *

><p>He had refused the offer, refused it without a second thought or hesitation. He wanted to be with his friends, and he wasn't ready for the huge responsibility.<p>

Annabeth had been close to tears when the gods provided him the offer. Then when he refused and tears had slid down her face, she broke down. She cried with happiness, with shock and relief.

That time, Percy was Annabeth's Seaweed Brain, a best friend. And a good boyfriend.

* * *

><p>Percy got up and walked back towards his cabin. That was enough for today; he wanted to stop at a happy thought. His woodland friends waved and smiled at him as he passed by, and he grinned cheerfully back.<p>

They all seemed unusually happy that he was the normal smiling boy he was when he first came to camp. He was free of worries, and decided to enjoy as much time as he could, before disaster could strike again.

After all, he was just a mere demigod – a teenager that should lead a happy event-filled life.

* * *

><p><strong>~La fin~<strong>

_Thank you, Tokoloshe Monster for beta-reading this. You have been a great help. Love you!_


	2. Demigod 2 Luke

**Luke**

Nothing. Nothing is something big, something more massive than you think it is. Nothing is the biggest favor anyone can ask you to do – when they want you to keep a secret, they tell you to do Nothing, literally, and you feel like you're going to bust because you're desperate to share it with someone.

Nothing is greater than Gods themselves, it is worse than Demons. Often, when you do something good, a donation, and you ask Nothing in return. People would give you thumbs-up, just because you asked for Nothing.

It is humongous, other than the things that occupy space, the rest is all Nothing. Space, air, they are all 'Nothing'.

This is what Luke got – Nothing. When he had asked Kronos what he would get in return for all the things he had done for him, the only answer was silence. It was then followed by Kronos' famous cold, raspy, laugh. Luke hadn't understood then, but when he had taken his last breath in Olympus, he understood what it was all about.

The silence was Nothing. That's what Luke got in return.

How could he have been so dumb? He could've refused, he could've discussed it with someone, he could've asked for help, he could've used any other way to take his revenge on the Gods.

But he had chosen this – and now he saw the result of it all.

The blond haired, blue-eyed boy's slim body leaned against the wooden doorframe of Cabin 11, a cabin that was always too full. Perseus Jackson, or rather Percy, had just been welcomed to Camp Half-Blood formally, and he had just given him some new toothbrush and showed him his place in the overly crowded cabin.

Percy seemed nice, but he knew well enough not to get too attached to him; there were more important things to be done.

Luke lowered his head in shame as he thought about all the things he had done in his life, and the memory that came to him just now was the very beginning of it all. He wished he could shout at his nineteen-year-old self to clear his mind. But what was done is done.

He sat on the edge of Elysium, watching over the activities going around in the beautiful place. Yes, he had landed in Elysium, to his great surprise and relief.

Even though he had prepared himself again and again before he had died for the pain that he was so sure he would have to endure in the Fields of Punishment, a small part of him still wished that he would go to Elysium instead. And here he was, after being congratulated for being a Hero, saving the World; he had been kindly escorted to the doors of Elysium, what luck!

He ran, his breath came short, his lungs screamed for air, but he kept on moving. He didn't look back; he wanted to throw everything behind – he wanted to start all over again.

He was only nine years old then, but his head was clearer than ever. He knew that he would go crazy, just like his mother, if he stayed in that place any longer.

May Castellan just had another one of her fits. Her mental problems were brought by Hades, just because she had tried to become the Oracle, had let her become like this. Luke cursed, he cursed the Fates, he cursed his mother, but most of all he cursed his father and the gods.

How could they? How could _he?_ Hermes was his father, for Gods' sake! Had he ever come to visit, or comfort him and his mother before, even when she was having the worst of all her fits?

No, the god hadn't.

Luke shuddered to think about the green mist coming out of his mother's mouth, her eyes rolling back, saying yet another one of her stupid, crazy prophesies.

He had wandered around in the streets for five years, just managing to stay alive. After all, he was the son of the God of Thieves – Hermes – right?

Those were the loneliest, saddest days of his life – memories that he could never forget.

A lone tear traced down the side of his cheek, and he used his fingertip to wipe it off.

His mother, how was she? He shook his head; the last words he had spoken to her rang in his mind. They were words of anger, words of hate, yet his mother had loved him, wanted him to go back to her. He had refused, and laughed his cold laugh.

She was having one of her fits then, so there was no sadness in her eyes. The fear, confusion, pain and loneliness had scared him, but he had, once again, chosen to ignore them. Though Luke knew. He knew that when his mother came to her senses, how sad, how miserable she would become. He couldn't bear to let himself think about the reactions his mother would have had.

Then, he found them. Two girls that saved his soul, saved him from finally collapsing onto the streets. Two girls that kept him company. Two girls that showed him what love was all about, how it felt to be cared about, to be loved again.

He was fourteen when he first saw Thalia Grace and Annabeth Chase. It was love at first sight for Thalia, and he had loved Annabeth like a little sister.

"You promise, don't you Luke?" Annabeth's soft and childlike voice echoed in his mind, "You promise this would be a good family, and that we'll never go back to Mom and Dad, right? We're going to be a perfect family."

Luke still remembered the face Annabeth had when he had nodded in response. The delight and happiness was also reflected on Thalia's more mature face. He had felt so happy, so proud for once in his life – he had managed to made someone feel secured, feel happy along with him; but at the same time, there was this anxiousness and tension that kept nagging him at the back of his mind. He had ignored it then, thinking it was just the side-effects of feeling so much joy for the first time.

Luke sighed. He didn't want to think about all these memories, yet he wanted to rejoice and recount everything that had happened to him in his life. He wanted to treasure the happy memories and learn from the sad ones.

But it was hard, harder than he thought, to not think about Annabeth and Thalia. To not call out for them, to tell them how sorry he was, to break the promise that he was so sure he would always keep.

He clenched his fist tightly, his nails digging into his skin, drawing blood. He didn't care; this little pain was nothing to him now. Compared to the agony he had felt again and again in his life – when he bathed in River Styx, when he had helped and became Kronos's body – this pain was nothing.

But once again, Nothing was something big.

They had avoided, fought, and survived the monsters time after time together, never apart. But when Thalia hurt herself, Luke had been scared. The feeling of a loved one maybe leaving him was unbearable. It was first time he ever felt like that, and he wanted it to stop. He brought Thalia and Annabeth to the place he never wanted to visit again – the place he had grew up in, the place that his mother was still living in.

There, he had met his Father, for the first and only time of his life. He felt anger and remorse boil inside him – he wanted revenge. He banged his fist on the table and asked why he had done all _this _to him, and Hermes had shaken his head sadly, not answering. His answers were the already-too-familiar Nothing.

Hermes told him that he knew his fate and he forgot all about his anger. He had asked eagerly, like a baby, what his Fate was. But Hermes had refused, and Luke had hated him even more.

It was then that he started viewing 'Nothing' as something to be disgusted with.

It was then that he felt the sudden urge to prove himself more than before, and he had attracted more monsters, dragging them all into more skirmishes, becoming more reckless.

He still didn't love his Father, but he didn't hate him that much anymore. He understood over time why he had done all those things. He wished he would know his Father a little better.

He smiled a bit at his own stupidity, for proving himself when he knew it was already his limits.

He shook his head once again and closed his eyes. He was tired, mentally. After all, thinking about all these things could drive you crazy, you know?

His heart had almost stopped when the Hunters asked Thalia to join them. And he had felt relief when she refused.

_It was just another typical summer day, he was strolling around the land leisurely along with Thalia. It was the day that the Hunters had asked Thalia the question._

_That night, when they were sitting down and gazing up at the starless sky, trying to avoid the topic, Luke spoke, "I know you don't want to talk about it, but I'm dying to ask you this."_

_Thalia had turned towards him and smiled, showing that she knew what he was talking about, "I know what you mean. It's okay. Ask what you want to ask."_

_Luke had poked her playfully on the shoulder, grinning like the mischievous boy he once was, "You already know what I want to ask, just answer me."_

_She grew serious, her face tightening and her lips pursing together, "I don't know… I just… I just didn't want to leave you behind." She had finished off awkwardly._

_That was the night of tension, of truth… but the most memorable point of it was the kiss __– their first kiss._

He saw the anger and hatred Thalia had towards the Hunters then, and he was happy. Happy that Thalia cared about them, cared about _him_ more than immortality. More than everything, anything.

At that time, he was so sure that their family would be perfect forever.

_Family._ The word still felt rusty against his lips. He refused to say it for the past few years. He knew that it was the word that made everything become so bad.

His betrayal, perhaps Annabeth wouldn't have hated him so much if he hadn't promised that they would have a perfect family. Perhaps, just being a traitor wouldn't have broken Annabeth's heart into so many pieces.

That was the second time he felt truly, gut-wrenchingly worried. Anxiety had reached his limits. Thalia had saved them, but Luke thought she would survive, just like the first time – but she didn't. He remembered feeling terrified and shocked, he was unable to describe what he felt then with words.

_Luke ran with Annabeth following right behind him, Thalia's shouts still ringing in his ears, refusing to lessen the pressure and fear he was feeling. But he was confident, he trusted that Thalia would be able to defeat that monster, she had done it many times before, it had to be no problem._

_But she hadn't come back. When the golden light engulfed her, Luke had cried out. He kneeled down in front of the tree- the tree that was once his best friend, his most trust-worthy partner- and sobbed. His hands falling limply to his side, his shoulders shaking, he tuned out everything else that was happening in the world. _

_He didn't trust himself to speak, he couldn't even make that fake, reassuring smile he always gave Annabeth when they were almost losing a battle- this time even she knew they had lost- not only lost the battle, but it had taken away their sister, their partner and their friend._

When Zeus turned her into a tree, he was so sad, so vulnerable and helpless. From then on, he had slowly fallen into darkness, and soon he was possessed by Dark itself.

But for Annabeth's sake, he had remained emotionless, calm. Annabeth had asked him once every while, innocently, "When is Thalia going to come back?" Luke had smiled and answered repeatedly, "Soon, Annie, soon."

But he knew Annabeth understood where Thalia was, she just asked the question to reassure herself, to hear the fake and less painful truth. She wasn't ready to face the truth, not yet.

That was the biggest lie he ever said to Annabeth, but she had only been grateful. But when he had told her the truth of what he was going to do, and what he was planning with Kronos, Annabeth had been disappointed, angry and hated him even though she had known all along what was the truth. She didn't want to hear it from Luke, because like Luke, she had believed that it was partially his fault.

_Luke had pondered the question in silence. Though his face was emotionless, inside emotions were churning, reminding him painfully of what had happened not so long ago._

"_Answer me, Luke, answer me." Annabeth prompted impatiently, her hands fiddling with the hem of her skirt._

"_It's time I told you the truth, Annie." And he had._

_It was the biggest mistake he ever made._

_Annabeth had stomped her feet and screamed, cursing him, blaming him for everything. Her face contorted with rage, contorted with rage._

"_You have no right to speak the truth. If you hadn't listened to her, if you hadn't brought me away and ran, she wouldn't have died. Even if she did, she wouldn't be alone - she would have us. We would still be the happy and perfect family that we once were. You're a liar…"_

_Why was life so complicated?_

He was given a quest at seventeen. He had been honored, happy and excited. For the first time he felt that maybe, just maybe, his father had loved him and cared for him. When he came back, he soon began to doubt it, hadn't Hercules had the same quest he had – to steal the Golden Apple?

He came back to camp scarred, he was angry – angry with his Father, angry with the Gods, angry with the Campers for pitying him. From then on, he swore to tear down Olympus stone by stone. Luke could feel hatred shredding every inch of his body and he relished it, the fury fueling his revenge.

Then, he had dreams about Kronos. At that time, he thought Kronos to be his lifesaver. How wrong he had been…

Luke laughed humorlessly, acidly – oh yes, Kronos was his lifesaver, he thought sarcastically, how true. Luke scowled, if he hadn't been so silly he would now be sitting under the once-Thalia pine tree, reading and chatting with Annabeth, and perhaps even Percy.

But no, his 'lifesaver' hadn't saved his life; he had ruined it.

_Nightmares. _

Nightmares after nightmares. They were the things that made him swear to Kronos, never to fail again.

The nightmares were the greatest fear, the only thing that made him break out in cold sweat, compared to them, Kronos didn't even seem as fierce. He saw them, his two beloved girls, being torn to shreds by monsters. He saw them screaming for his help, but he had cruelly, coldly turned his back to them, the creepy smile plastered on his face.

He knew these were the things that Kronos used to 'break' him. He didn't want to admit it, but they worked – wonderfully.

He had been punished by nightmares, because he failed to succeed to bring the Helm of Darkness and Lightning Bolt back safely. He swore to Kronos never to fail again.

When he was punished, he often woke up in his bed, panting and drenched in sweat. He would shiver and sometimes tears even streamed down his face. Other demigods in his room would grumble about how he yelled and shouted and thrashed around his bed.

It was the first time he knew and understood what being terrified was all about.

Luke knew that the next memory would be the last before the worse of all memories, and he wished that he would be able to endure it…

River Styx wasn't exactly a special river to him. It was dirty. It was a river full of discarded toys, full of dreams and hopes that dead people couldn't take back with them. It was the worst place Luke had ever been to.

It was weird. During the past few months, Luke had started feeling pity towards his mother. Perhaps it was because he knew the reason of all those fits. And he had experienced all those emotions and feelings no doubt his mother felt every time – anger, hurt, fear, uselessness, helplessness, desperation.

So when he was told to hold onto one thought to keep him with his human body, he had thought about his mother and all those fits she had. He had thought how her eyes betrayed her, just like her family did. He had felt bad, (and just a slight tinge of love) and that had kept him alive, all well, just as his mother always wished him to be.

Luke felt another tinge of sadness and remorse as his mother's face entered his mind. Of all people – Annabeth, Thalia, everyone – he wanted to tell her how sorry he was. He wished he was still alive and he knew he would have spent more time with his mother.

Treating her with care, telling her about everything he felt and experienced in the past few years. There were so many things that he could've shared with his mother, things that he had missed and will never be able to do again.

Tears began to spill down his face, and for the first time in his existence he wasn't embarrassed to let other people see him crying. He was, in fact, proud of it all. He was proud that he understood and became a better, more lovable hero – his mother's hero.

He gasped as he tried to push Kronos back. "Annabeth!" he wanted to scream. He saw her face, heard her words, and it felt like it had stabbed him in the heart. He came back to consciousness, oh, how could he be so dumb?

He saw her dagger. He reached for it. She wouldn't budge. He pushed Kronos further back, and he was sure my eyes were now in place of the Lord of Time's eyes. He begged, literally begged, Percy to give the dagger to him and finally he relented.

When he laid on the floor, in his own puddle of blood, he sighed, wincing at the pain. Finally, he became the Luke he really was, and still is now.

He felt tears drip down his face, he felt someone scream for his name down below._ Annabeth and Thalia_, he thought sadly.

"I love you," he whispered. But they didn't hear him.

Too late. He was dead.

Dagger. The weapon Annabeth trusted most, the weapon she was most skillful and professional at. The weapon that he had entrusted her with when we just met.

"_No more monsters?" Annabeth asked through her cave, timidly._

_Luke smiled at her gently, and shook his head. Luke wiped away her tears and handed her a weapon _–_ a dagger._

"_Only the smartest and bravest girl can use it." Luke told her._

_Her eyes lit up, and she smiled and nodded._

Luke sighed. He'll stop here and go to sleep. It was at least a happy memory.

At first, Luke was a lot of things, but he wasn't a traitor or a promise-breaker.

After – Luke was a lot of things, but he wasn't caring nor was he the real Luke.

Then Luke was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid nor was he filled with hatred.

Finally, he was a real hero.

May Castellan's hero, Annabeth Chase's hero, Thalia Grace's hero – everyone's hero.

A hero.

**La Fin**

**Thank you Tokoloshe Monster for beta-reading**


	3. Demigod 3 Annabeth

**Annabeth Chase (Annabeth)**

Family.

At first, it was something that was simply there since her birth. Her dad and Annabeth – they were just a typical happy family, nothing special except for the fact that her mom was never present – that didn't matter, she never was there before.

She remembers that she would frequently crawl onto her father's broad shoulders and ask for a piggyback ride, just like a typical little girl. It was just something that all her friends did – nothing unique. Somehow, the feeling of her father's back and shoulders made her feel safer and calmer.

At the age of five, a maternal figure entered her life. She didn't like her, the person who just charged into her life and started ordering her around as if she was her maid. The woman looked at her as if she was a freak. The thing that saddened and angered her most was that her father never cared when the woman would scowl in her direction. He would always give his good-natured laugh and turn away promptly.

She never really understood why her father changed then. After all, Annabeth wasn't a child of Aphrodite. But what she knew was that she no longer can stand that place she used to call 'home'.

So she left.

That was when the monsters attacked.

_It was yet another star-filled night. They blinked above, as if guiding her to yet another hiding place to stay. She had been safe for a few days, but she was still scared and unaccustomed for being by herself all day, finding food and struggling to survive._

_Just when she curled up under a tree, snuggling under the fallen autumn leaves, she heard a slight rustle. It was followed by a low, threatening growl. She stumbled up and spun around quickly, eyes wide with fear._

_She saw it then – the red and fierce eyes hungry for food. And even at the age of seven, she knew that the steady gaze held on her meant that she was chosen prey. _

_Perhaps it was because she was too frightened, she thought she heard a slight whisper. Somehow, it gave her courage and intelligence. She was already smart for her age, being the first in everything at her school. But this time, she felt a different type of intelligence enter her mind. It was a knowledge she knew she needed for whatever laid in front of her._

_Annabeth understood that then, but what she didn't know was that the 'something' that laid in her front of her was that huge. _

Find a weapon… _the__wind__seem__to__whisper._

"_W-what?" she stuttered in reply, her voice trembling slightly. She felt foolish, answering the wind, knowing fully well that there would be no reply._

"_Gone mad with fear, little demigod, talking to the air?" the monster spoke for the first time._

Find a weapon to defend yourself. _Another__whisper__was__heard._

_This time, Annabeth was sure someone was talking to her. But there wasn't time to figure out who it was. She looked around her and found a piece of glass on the floor. She picked it up quickly and turned towards the monster._

"_A piece of glass? It will do you no good." The monster chortled. _

_Annabeth didn't reply, but she knew the only reason why the monster wasn't already lunging at her was that it enjoyed taunting her._

_The monster pounced on her, its claws sinking into her arm. She screamed in pain._

Focus.

_And just like that, through the Voice's guidance she fought her way through days and night._

_After a few days, she finally found out what 'demigod' was, and that the Voice was actually her instinct – another part of her. But what she didn't know was that it was another figure that was talking through her instincts._

The second time she ever felt warmth and protection was when she met Luke and Thalia. Slowly, she found herself loving the blond-haired boy. Perhaps it was just a sibling-love, but it was love nonetheless. He wasn't just any boy. He was the one who saved her life, cared for Annabeth and trusted her.

She thought Luke would be her destined one. But slowly, she realized that it would be impossible.

At first, she blamed Percy for coming and making everything flip upside down – Luke becoming a traitor, and the world almost going into chaos. It was all Percy's fault. She hated his guts then.

Slowly, after multiple missions, she felt something stir inside her.

She saw how Percy had trusted her during the Quest of the Master Bolt. How he turned to her and asked her to protect herself when they were in danger. She saw how he understood what true love was when they were face to face with the Lord of the Dead.

How he was willing to sacrifice himself for his mother. She saw how important friendship meant to him one the Quest of the Golden Fleece. How he wanted to save Grover no matter what it cost him.

She saw that he was intelligent and willing to trust his former enemy to take back the Golden Fleece back to the Camp.

It wasn't love she felt for him; it was respect. She started trusting him back, protecting him and occasionally caring for Percy. She found herself looking at him for a second too long. And how she always felt her heart flutter when their hands brushed against each other whenever Percy passed something to her. She wasn't surprised when Percy remembered to celebrate his 'Wise Girl's birthday.

It was her first true, pleasant smile.

_Seaweed__brain_. It sounded sweet and comfortable in her mouth. She didn't know how she felt – the fact that she was the only one who was able to call him that, maybe _special_was the word. She often said it to herself before she got ready for bed, just to hear it dangle on her lips. But she could tell that her mom wasn't happy about her choice in demigod boys. She defended herself that she wasn't falling for Percy; she just respected him for who he is.

But slowly, she realized again and again that it was no longer true. The emotions she felt inside her were no longer pure respect. It was mixed with something she hadn't felt for years.

As much as she didn't want to, she felt the feelings inside her wanting to burst out every now and then. She slowly couldn't stop resisting herself to gaze at Percy's face, letting herself memorize every inch, as if she would lose him any second.

And for a moment, she thought she would.

* * *

><p>Annabeth shook her head to disperse all those thoughts about her life. There were more important matters at hand now.<p>

But she didn't care, did she? Percy can just become a god and disappear from her life. Why was she so nervous, so anxious to hear Percy's answer?

She was standing a few feet behind Percy. For all she cared, he was making the biggest decision he ever could – a decision that would no doubt change his life forever.

For the first time, Annabeth openly acknowledged her love to Percy, at least to herself_. Outside, she still held her head high, shoulders squared and a look of defiance on her face.

But when she saw the look of sadness and apology on Percy's face when he looked over at her, her mind exploded. The look in his eyes was enough to tell her that he was going to accept the offer to become a God and leave her behind. _He __was __freaking __going __to __leave __her __behind! __How __could __he?_

Annabeth mentally laughed at herself humorlessly. Why would he care? She was just another demigod in Camp. She was nothing special to him.

As if reading her mind, Percy spoke.

"No, I decline the offer."

Annabeth found herself letting go of a breath she didn't know she was holding. That was when the tears started to flow freely – tears of relief and happiness.

"I still have friends back there in the mortal world." Percy jerked a thumb towards her and she saw a look of joy and pride in his eyes.

Annabeth was stunned and for a moment she wasn't able to think clearly.

Percy chuckled nervously at the stern looks on the gods' faces, but it was his choice. He would never leave Annabeth behind.

Annabeth saw the protective way Percy stood a few feet in front of her, as if shielding her from any sudden attack. Annabeth couldn't help but smiling_, he is a Seaweed Brain after all._

* * *

><p>Later that day, Percy found her way towards the Athena cabin. Annabeth was already there, waiting for him at the front door.<p>

That night, they had their first kiss.


End file.
